


The Taste of Revenge

by StarofChaos



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Animal Abuse, Dog/James animosity, Gen, NSFW, Revenge, Teen violence, Violence, thwarted Dog/Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 17:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12869043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarofChaos/pseuds/StarofChaos
Summary: It was all James' fault. If only he'd kept his mouth shut...Sometimes revenge tastes sweet. Sometimes it tastes like blood.





	The Taste of Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> For several years I got caught up in an AU Marvel rpg site. I got to work with some amazingly talented people, and it was one of the best writing experiences I've ever had. Sadly the site is no longer active, but I'm keeping some of my work from there alive. This was written as a gift for someone who was playing Dog Logan at the time, expanding on how a certain episode in his history might have gone.

It was all James' fault.

That was what Dog kept telling himself, even as the hound struggled weakly underneath his hands while Dog held him down. It had been so easy. The beast had played with him and James so many times over the years. Dog had petted him, fed him, taken care of him so many times that the dog didn't seem to think anything of following him into the woods. Once there, Dog had petted the dog, told him what a good boy he was, hugged him as he had done so often in the past, then as the dumb beast wagged his tail happily Dog grabbed the hound's muzzle tightly to keep him quiet while he drew his favorite hunting knife from his belt and slit his throat. It wasn't the first time he'd killed. As the groundskeeper's son, Dog had helped in hunting game for the table. He was good with a knife, and strong enough to make sure the blade cut deep enough that the prey bled out quickly. And it was a _pleasure_ to kill. The first time Dog had taken a life, he was amazed at how good it felt to have that kind of control over life and death. He who usually had little control over what happened in his life, being under the beck and call of not only his father but the entire Howlett family, here at last he had control over another creature. And it felt _good_.

But this was different. The hound's blood had sprayed hard at first when Dog sliced through the veins in his throat; drops had spattered on his face and clothes and he could feel it hot against his skin. His hands were stained with it as he held the dog down, but he didn't care. The hound grew weaker and weaker as the life pumped out of him, and Dog watched. He felt no remorse that he'd killed an innocent creature that had never been anything but friendly to him; just anger and frustration and a grisly satisfaction that sank deep inside him. James would cry when he found his favorite pet like this. He'd blubber and cry like the weak little brat he was. And Dog didn't care; he _wanted_ James to cry. He wanted him to suffer; if only the little runt had kept his mouth shut and not gone squealing to his father like a pig.

Dog had just wanted a few kisses. Well to be honest, he wanted more than a few kisses; Rose was growing up so sweet and pretty and he'd spent so many nights lately thinking about her, wondering what she tasted like and imagining what it would feel like if it were her hands on him late at night instead of his own. But you couldn't talk like that to girls, right? Not to good girls, anyway, and Rose was a good girl. So Dog tried to be nice; he told her how pretty she was, and stole those kisses that he said were all he wanted. And her lips were so nice and soft, and she tasted so sweet; it was everything he could have hoped for. Rose said no, that she didn't want that, but Dog didn't believe her. He'd heard that girls always said that; they had to play hard to get so that men wouldn't think they were fast, even though they really did want it. So he kept on, only to have James ruin everything by running and tattling on him to his father. And of course Mr. Howlett told Dog's father, and frankly if Dog had to get punishment he would have preferred that it come from anyone other than his father, but of course that was too much to ask for. His father was always free with his fists, but the beating that Dog received that night left all the others in the dust. He'd bitten into his own arm so that he wouldn't give his father the satisfaction of hearing him cry, and by bedtime there were still marks in his skin left by his teeth. The marks were inside as well. He cursed his father for beating him, Rose for turning him away, but mostly he cursed James for being such a goddamn snitch. If James had just kept his mouth shut...

Which is why Dog was now crouched in the woods near the main house, listening to the noise in the wood return to normal now that the hound's heart had stopped beating and his struggles had ceased. This was a path that he, James and Rose took often when they went for walks. James would be sure to find is favorite pet here, and then Dog would have the immense satisfaction of seeing the other boy's pain when he saw the animal's limp body lying there, blood soaked into the ground around him. A drop of the hound's still-warm blood slid slowly down Dog's face until it reached the corner of his mouth and he reached his tongue out to wipe it away, relishing the harsh coppery taste. It tasted good, of satisfaction and revenge.

It was just a shame that it wasn’t James.


End file.
